Not My Life
by Narya's Bane
Summary: Eventually, time catches up even with the lucky. But there is always someone in line to replace them… or is there?


This is my first venture into Stargate. I've been reading for a bit, and humbly make this offering for better or worse. It's one of those early morning plot bunnies. Depending on response, I'll either delete this- add to it- or ignore if from this day forward.

The Usual: Anyone you recognize is not mine. At this time, I think that means just the narrator. Situation is mine as well. Everything else is not mine. I own nothing but a few wads of chewed gum, so I would not advise suits.

Plot Bunny- Those we know and love have made it into the future, but inevitably "failure" will have to show its face. Who is going to take over SGC now, or is it even necessary?

It's very strange to wake up in the early hours of the morning, say around three a.m., and have to make a silent admission: this is not my life. It has never truly been my life. It will never be my life. That's when you remember that your life as you knew it ended weeks ago, and since then you've been a shell of the person you once were.

I go through the motions. I wake up in the morning, shower, eat breakfast. I go to work and mess around with the latest translations. But somewhere inside it doesn't quite click.

I think Unc- er, General O'Neill has caught on. Whenever he sees me I find him glancing back with some strange look- the mother hen thing, even though we aren't actually related. Sometimes I'll smile at him, and others I don't even try. I think in spite of the exterior I try to throw to the world, he knows.

I can't see the world around me anymore. Not the way I used to. My interest left the day my father died, and the only person around who even guesses that might be the case is his best friend. So I go through the motions, pretend to still exist- even though inside there is no evidence to prove I'm more than an abandoned child in a random military facility.

Except I'm not a child anymore.

And this facility isn't random.

My father knew better than this. He was supposed to be the most brilliant man to step foot into SGC. He even held himself together after my mother died, brilliantly and valiantlyeveryone was amazed how well he did. I remember, being ten years old at the time; we talked for hours, and in the end made a promise to each other. I told him I would always be there for him, and he assured that he would never willingly leave me on my own. For eight years we lived like that. I can picture the phone calls vividly in my head, my memory making all the conversations solidify in reality. He held together well- yes, that he did. He would call me at three a.m. to let me know he was coming home, and in his voice I always heard the same promise: I'm staying with you.

Our promise led him to switch out of SG-1, his life, to head an archaeological unit. We talked for only an hour about that one; he said he refused to take the chances SG-1 threw him into. He didn't want me knowing the life he had led, moved from one foster family to the next. We both knew it wouldn't happen, but I heard the determination in his voice: I was not going to be left like that; he was going to be the one to raise me.

So two days after I turned eighteen, I got this strange visit at my dorm room…

I was crying even before the well-kempt men in military uniform led me into secrecy and told me what I didn't want to hear.

"We regret to inform you that Dr. Daniel Jackson was killed in a routine off-world mission as part of the Stargate project."

He should have retired years ago. Only his brilliant mind and the fact that I hadn't graduated made him continue on. If it hadn't been his life, I'm sure dad would have stopped going off-world years ago. But it had become an addiction, like it has with Aunt Sam- or even Uncle Jack. So here I am, taking the place of a man I am a simple shadow of while I remain simply a shadow of myself.

I shed my tears. I have nothing left to give my grief, I suppose. Uncle Jack sees it in me, knows something is wrong; Aunt Sam ignores it when she can, but I get a feeling that's because she has a hard enough time dealing with the situation herself. I don't understand how she is able to stand it, being so strong yet still managing to release her emotions.

I can't stand it.

I should be in school. Fall session is still going strong, but I can't make myself go back. I'll take the tests the teachers send, ace them, and settle in for the winter. I don't know where I'm going to go- dad left me the apartment, but I know in my heart staying there would draw out memories I don't want to deal with. I've been here almost a month already and still haven't made it over there. I always find some excuse to miss it.

Uncle Jack is getting worried. I can sense it. I've been staying with him and Aunt Sam, but somehow that doesn't seem right anymore- I think I'm intruding. I know both of them are hurting anyway, and having me around can't help things.

When I'm not thinking about dad, I can enjoy the legacy he left behind for me. A wealth of knowledge is there for my grasping, and he trained me well in how to take it for my own. He opened the Stargate, for which I am eternally grateful; I'll always have someplace to practice my skills.

But in the end, he left me one thing I never imagine possible, in all my nightmares. I'm alone in the world, the only one in my family.

My name is Danielle Scheherazade Jackson, and I'm an orphan.


End file.
